


One Night

by museofknowledge



Series: Match Made [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museofknowledge/pseuds/museofknowledge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney and Patrick get drunk at the Olympics and discuss their soul bond. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is the continuation of my story 'Match Made.' 
> 
> The characters are under the influence of alcohol during the course of the fic.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It implies nothing about the players or their relationship with one another.

They were both drunk. _So_ fucking drunk as they stumbled along a hallway on their way back to Sidney's room in the dorms. Sidney on celebratory shots after Canada's gold-medal victory over the United States, Patrick on consolatory ones. And there were lots of shots to go around to get them drunk.

 

The night had started out straight-forward enough, with pretty much all of the athletes left in the Olympic Village meeting up after the final hockey game between Canada and the United States to let loose and have some fun before everyone returned to their respective teams or countries. Someone, or several someones, had managed to bring in a bunch of different types of alcohol in various forms, and soon enough, everyone was well on their way to being completely and utterly smashed.

 

People had kept shoving drinks in front of Sidney, and, well, it would have been rude to refuse them. He was the captain of Team Canada and they had just won a fucking gold medal again! Eric Staal, along with several other members of Team Canada, seemed to make it his personal mission to see that Sidney had always had a drink in his hand. To be fair, though, it hadn't been just the Canadian athletes. Ovechkin and Geno managed to contribute quite a few drinks to the cause themselves.

 

Suddenly, Sidney had turned around and Patrick was _right_ _there_. Right beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders, and slurring his words as he spoke into Sidney's ear. As he talked, he steered them towards an alcove that was just slightly more private than their current surroundings in the middle of the room.

 

“So, you and me should totally fuck. 'Cause, I mean, we're soul mates and everything and you just won a gold medal. _Another_ gold medal _._ So I think we should fuck.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a sharp nod, as though he were affirming his words to himself. The wall behind Sidney had been supporting them, and Patrick quickly took advantage of that fact. He turned his head into the crook of Sidney's neck and began mouthing at the bare skin he found there.

 

“But you don't _want_ to,” Sidney said as he tilted his head up to give Patrick better access, vaguely aware of his words coming out in a whining tone. “You _said_. You don't want anything to do with me.” He tried pulling Patrick off him, but gave up after a few half-hearted tugs. He really hadn't wanted Patrick to go, anyway.

 

"Yeah, but I didn't _mean_ it. And now I want to fuck you. _Please_?” Patrick wasn't above begging at that moment. Sidney was just there and looked so good that he was sure that no one in his situation could have avoided begging. No one. Not even one of the Russians. Besides, they were soul mates. That was what mattered, right? They totally were supposed to be on the same page with this. And that meant getting naked, preferably soon.

 

“But you said you don't want me. I heard you!”

 

“Lies. All lies,” Patrick had said as he returned to his task of trying to reach as much of Sidney's skin as possible with his mouth. He nipped down from under the ear to the juncture where Sidney's neck met his shoulder and had felt a shudder go through Sidney's entire body.

 

Sidney had turned his head to meet Patrick's lips in a kiss that was more just them mashing their mouths together than it was with any real finesse.

 

“Can we go back to my room? _Please_?” Sidney had breathed out in between kisses. At Patrick's moan that Sidney took as an affirmative, he had begun to steer them out into the hallway, to Sidney's room.

 

So, yes, they were so incredibly drunk, but they were both so turned on that getting behind a closed door and naked seemed like the best idea in the world right now.

 

They finally, _finally_ reached the door to Sidney’s room that he was sharing with Tavares and managed to get it open. Sidney grabbed Patrick's hand and pulled him along to his bed. The minute they were both sitting on the bed, Patrick launched himself at Sidney again, as though he were afraid that Sidney was going to disappear if he didn't get his hands on him right that second.

 

They both managed to somehow get the other's clothing off in the midst of their fumbling around. Their kisses were urgent and harsh between them as both fought for dominance. As Patrick found himself on top of Sidney, he trailed his lips down Sidney's chest to take his nipple into his mouth. He brought his hand down to Sidney's cock, hard and leaking already. As he began to stroke, he gently bit down on Sidney's nipple, eliciting a loud groan of pure _want_ from the other man.

 

Patrick was stroking Sidney's cock fast and furious, wasting now time.Wanting to bring Sidney off. Wanting to see him come and lose control.

 

“Come _on_ , Crosby!” Patrick breathed out as he moved up Sidney's chest to recapture his lips in a messy kiss. He moved his hand faster still, twisting at the tip of Sidney's cock. Patrick brought his hand around to fist in Sidney's hair at the nape of his neck, holding him closer as he swallowed the moans that were escaping Sidney's mouth as he got closer to orgasm.

 

“Come on,” Patrick repeated. “Wanna see you come. Wanna see it so bad.” With those words, Sidney let out a guttural noise and arched up into Patrick's grip, coming messily between them. Sidney's eyes closed as he let his head fall back to the pillow with a thump, trying to regain his breath.

 

Patrick lay on top of him, seeming to let Sidney recover. Before long, however, Patrick couldn't stop himself from moving his own erection against Sidney's hip and mouthing at the skin that he could manage to reach from his position. He shifted slightly and slotted his hips perfectly against Sidney's, creating friction that soon had Patrick trying to keep in sounds that were escaping in between kisses to Sidney's skin that even his alcohol-addled brain could recognize would be embarrassing if anyone else were around to hear them.

 

Sidney slowly came out of his post-orgasm haze and soon caught up with what Patrick was trying to do and began moving his hips in time with Patrick's, trying to make him lose control as Sidney had. Patrick's hips moved faster against Sidney, and he swiftly felt himself approaching his own orgasm. He leaned his head back down and captured Sidney's lips in a final, searing kiss as his release hit him.

 

Patrick collapsed on top of Sidney, trying to let his heartbeat approach something close to a normal pace. One of Sidney's hands began to slowly stroke Patrick's back as they lay there, and after a few moments of basking in the afterglow, Patrick moved off of Sidney, to the side. They lay there for a few moments more, just breathing together, but otherwise not moving.

 

The silence got to be too much after a bit, and Patrick raised his head to speak with Sidney, to say, “Good-bye,” or “Great fuck,” or _something_ , but saw that Sidney had fallen asleep. Patrick managed to grab an edge of the bedspread and pull it up over them both. He'd move in a little bit. He just wanted to rest a bit before he got up and left. Maybe get a little bit more sober.

 

* * *

 

Sidney woke up the next morning, feeling the effects of all the alcohol that he had consumed the night before as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He felt as though he had been run over by a truck, brought back to life, and then run over once again. Sidney flopped back down on his bed, not wanting to get up just yet and face other people, or at least, other people who weren't Patrick.

 

Speaking of whom, he looked over at the naked, sleeping figure of the other man sleeping next to him. Patrick was stretched out on his stomach, face turned away from Sidney, and one arm tucked underneath the pillow. Sidney hoped that what Patrick had said last night still held true this morning, about what he had told Sidney about not wanting to be with him being a lie. Sidney couldn't remember much of the previous night, but he _did_ remember his and Patrick's talk, well, and the sex, of course.

 

As Sidney was thinking, Patrick happened to turn over and blinked a few times in the morning light coming from the window. He groaned and then quickly threw his arm up over his face to shield his eyes from the light.

 

“What the hell? Why the fuck are the curtains open?” Patrick asked as he turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

 

“Because we were too fucking drunk to care last night,” Sidney responded. At the sound of Sidney's voice, Patrick quickly sat up and looked at him, bleary-eyed.

 

“Oh yeah,” Patrick said in a soft voice. “We fucked last night.”

 

“Yeah, we did.”

 

“Well, hey, that's great, but, uh, I'm just, uh, gonna find my clothes and head on out. Gotta get packed and get ready to head back to the States and everything,” Patrick said. He began to gather his clothes up from off the floor where they had been thrown the previous night.

 

“Wait, you're leaving?”

 

“Yeah? I mean, like I said. I gotta pack for the flight and shit. But, hey, good game yesterday.” Patrick managed to get his pants on and was trying to get his shirt turned right side out so that he could get out of there.

 

“But don't you want to talk first about how this is all going to work?” Sidney asked.

 

“How what's going to work?”

 

“Don't you- I mean, last night you said, well, that you hadn't meant what you said when we found out that we were soulmates. So what? Are you saying that now you've changed your mind again?”

 

“Oh come on! I never changed it in the first place! I was drunk! You were drunk! Look, it was great sleeping with you, but I can't fucking have a relationship with you! I've told you this,” Patrick exclaimed as he managed to get his shirt on. He reached for his shoes and jammed them on his feet.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because!”

 

“That's not a fucking answer!” Sidney cried out from where he was still sitting on the bed.

 

“It's the only one you're gonna get! Just let it go!”

 

“I can't! Why- why don't you _want_ me!” Sidney yelled. He hadn't meant to let that last bit come out, but it had been on his mind almost constantly since Patrick had said “No” to him. He just wanted an answer. He deserved that much at least, he thought.

 

“It's not that!”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Because I _can't_ do this! I just, I can't get involved with you!” With that, Patrick opened up the door and left the room and Sidney behind.

 

Back in the room, Sidney just stared at the door that Patrick had just exited, and couldn't believe that Patrick had just _left_ like that. He had let himself hope, for just a little bit, that Patrick would finally, really want him back. He knew now that that had been futile, but for that little bit the previous night, it had felt _right_ with Patrick.


End file.
